He says he had a dreamI got ran over by a carHe woke and screamed Or spoke my name

This makes me never want to cross a street, again

The streets will be Unresponsive To my deathJust as they do not mind my feet Briefly traipsing over them

Who knows, in all the years after I'm gone,If I will be beneath the streetsIf people will disturb my grave As part of their daily routinesIf people will bleed over meBreathing, bleating, who shall roam?Among them, who will wake and wonder if I ever made it home?

"we went to pizza hut after school and lived the rockstar life for the first time that day." - 13athroom